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<> Alynne looked out over the rolling countryside that made up her family estates. A light, sun-scented breeze danced through the window where she sat idly fanning herself. Although the tickling wind lifted her hair, it was not strong enough to stir the air in the room behind her. She pressed her feet into the crimson cushions of her window seat and slid down further into a slouch, ignoring the gasps as the motion bared her ankles. She sent the girls in her sitting room an annoyed look, and twitched her skirts to cover her legs and feet more modestly. “Foolish, useless magpies,” she sneered to herself. The girls her father had chosen to be her companions were stupid, vapid little beasts. They spoke of nothing but men and clothes, sharing gossip as if it were food, and they, the starving masses. They were giggling little clones that hated the country and longed for the ‘civilization’ of court. Alynne sighed, her ear swiveling in an effort to appear interested in what they were saying. She stared out over the gardens toward the forest. She knew they thought her pining for some man after her time in Silvermoon, but what she truly longed for was to continue her personal quest. She had overheard Piony speak of a ball in Nagrand several weeks ago, hosted by the Lady Lilithia Emberfall. She’d run away, crashed the party, and reminded the Forsaken of the acquaintance of her father. The Lady had eventually offered her a chance for something she could not refuse. Power. With the power, would come money as well. She knew the Sunfall fortune was faltering. It hadn’t failed yet, but her father’s keen business sense had been broken when he discovered the damage to their empire. They had lost so much in the Dark Times beneath the tearing hands and trampling feet of the Scourge. Farms and mines, shops, inns, and banks – all destroyed. Her father, Varindrel, had diversified their holdings decades before. The estate had pulled in money from so many places his enemies at court had been unable to harm a significant amount of the Sunfall market at any time. They’d thought themselves invincible – until the Scourge had destroyed the Sunwell. The magical substructure had crumbled. Deliveries were missed, communication lines crashed, crops were destroyed. Inns, taverns and entertaineries were decimated, and would have had no patrons to hold if still standing. Banks were looted, loan recipients either dead or disappeared. Treasures were stolen, museums and libraries emptied and burned. Mines were caved in and, until recently, there had been no magic to use to clear them. Her father had worked feverishly the first few years after Arthas’s attack, to no avail. They were living on borrowed funds and they both knew it. Luckily, they’d been able to keep that knowledge to themselves. “And he told Lord Leeonath that he was to answer the summons within 24 hours or he would be disowned!” The words cut across her thoughts and she looked up to see the girls tittering behind their fingers. She rose sullenly from her spot at the window, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “And did the little lordling return to his father?” The words were casual, but caused a great burst of laughter among the women. “Oh yes,” Variallyn offered. “He did. And you’ll never guess what his father is making him do!” Alynne looked the buxom brunette over, hiding the disdain in her eyes behind casual interest. The other girls, clad in elegant robes of peacock colors, dissolved into laughter again. “Do tell.” Alynne’s voice was a soft purr. None of them caught the flash in her eyes. Piony, with her smiling, plump face and glorious red hair giggled again. If the girl ever had an intelligent thought go through her head, Alynne believed she would faint. “Lord Leeonath is commanded to wed! Some poor woman is going to be stuck with that arrogant rake!” “Oohhh,” cooed Fione, “but –what- a rake!” Piony laughed again, then lamented, “I’ve asked and asked, but no one knows who it is to be!” The trio’s giggles sung out into the room as Alynne turned back to the window seat. Her lips curled into a smug smile as she leaned into the mithril banister and stared unseeingly at the garden. “Well,” she thought, “Lordling Leeo, the court rake is going to be wed. How very interesting… There are those that will pay for this information and pay well. How else can I make this work in my favor…?”